


Dissolution

by wargoddess



Series: Alliance [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Demon Sex, First Time, Incest, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flashback on the twins in their teenaged years, before their separation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissolution

**Author's Note:**

> The "first time" tag refers to their first time *with each other*, not either D or V's actual first time having sex. For those who care.

     It was a measure of how absorbed Dante was in his own need that he did not notice the demon following him.  He'd been on the prowl, searching for the lovely little kitchen-maid who'd given him a hungry look the other day.  Or perhaps her mother, whose eyes turned more speculative and less disapproving every day as he grew older.  She still didn't like him, but she knew quality when she saw it.  And if the village could agree on nothing else, it was that the young Sparda brothers were developing into two magnificent specimens of adolescent masculinity.

     He would prefer the mother, of course.  The daughter was prettier, but older women had stamina and a sophistication that was right in line with what he needed right now.  They didn't get upset when he bit or clawed them in the throes of passion.  They enjoyed it when he lost control and slammed into them so hard he left bruises.  A matron could endure a half-demon boy's lust better than an almost-virginal maid, and since the last maid he'd bitten and bruised had nearly gotten them kicked out of the village, safe sex was the word of the day.

     Vergil wouldn't approve, of course.  _We aren't full demons_ , Dante could almost hear his elder twin saying.  _We don't have to give in to our baser lusts.  It is a simple matter of self-control._

     _Yeah,_ Dante thought with resignation.  Nothing more than resignation; he could never bring himself to actually resent his twin.  _Just self-control.  Except you have it and I don't, Verg.  Or rather, you and I have different ideas about what constitutes control._

     The mother, he decided, approaching the servants' door of the mayor's mansion.  Her, or maybe the mayor's wife again.  But he thought maybe the mayor was on to his wife's extramarital activities.  Dante didn't know how he'd found out, but he'd seen the man at the town harvest celebration the other day, and his normally dour face had been angry and disgusted.  A fresh bruise had been visible on his wife's cheek, too, though she looked half defiant.  Dante would be gentle with her, then, the next time, if he could muster that much control.  Sometimes his demonic self was perverse; tenderness was alien to its nature, but it liked anything new and different --

     "Such a pretty mongrel," a voice whispered in his ear.

     His muscles reacted before his mind could; his hands formed fists and his body tensed, turning to defend --

     But the fist that slammed into his belly up to the wrist warned him even before the fight began that this particular demon was too strong for him.  Because only a full-blooded demon could hit that hard, and only a full-blooded demon would dare

knock

him

out.

 

#

 

     He came to slowly, aware of a dull ache in his arms and back, night's enveloping darkness around him, and the peculiar all-over cold that only came with nudity.  And then he became aware of hands.  Not his own.  The foreign hands moved over his flesh slowly, caressing, pausing to stir the nubs of his nipples, grazing his skin now and again with something hard -- nails?  awfully sharp for nails -- as they explored the hills and valleys of his abdominals.  And then further down.  Dante was not surprised to realize he had an erection.  He'd had one most of the time since he'd turned thirteen.  But he _was_ surprised to feel one of those foreign hands close about his shaft with no hesitation, stroking it slowly up and down.  Even the mayor's wife had been more hesitant than that; the lessons of chastity and modesty were deep-ingrained in the women of their village.

     And then the other of those stranger's hands rested on his buttocks, lightly drawing fingertips along the cleft there, and there was something _contemplative_ in that caress, something _exploratory_ , and all at once it came to him that this was not the mayor's wife or the kitchen-maid's mother.  He opened his eyes, and garnet-dark demon eyes smiled back at him.

     "Awake at last," said the demon, straightening a bit from where it had been licking his mouth with an impossibly long tongue.  A high-order demon, Dante realized with a chill, for only they could shape themselves into a form so close to human.  This one resembled a tall middle-aged man, with long dark hair streaming over his shoulders and a lean, graceful body.  His blood-colored irises gave him away, as did the claws and the inhuman perfection of his face -- like a doll of a man, with skin as smooth and unblemished as polished porcelain -- but these were subtle things that most humans wouldn't notice on first glance.  Or perhaps he kept his eyes brown around humans.  He'd also taken the trouble to shape, or buy, elegantly-tailored clothing for himself.  He looked like a wealthy country lord, a step below important nobility and a step above a peasant.  Which meant that neither would pay much attention to him, rendering the demon effectively nondescript as humans measured such things.

     _Smart_ , Dante realized, and he swallowed.  High-order indeed.  Possibly of, or near, Sparda's rank.

     The creature chuckled, giving Dante's cock a firm little squeeze as if to reward his intuition.  (Dante gasped, his insides turning to water.)  "Good guess, mongrel.  Not so very high as your esteemed traitor father, but close.  Close enough to smell you out here in your rustic little hidey-hole, even though you look and feel almost as human as the rest of these sheep.  That soul of yours gives you marvelous camouflage.  I actually wasn't sure you were Sparda's get until I tasted the lust in your thoughts.  Got the _mind_ of a demon, haven't you?"

     And thus readable by other demons of a close rank.  Dante shuddered -- for the demon had never stopped pumping him -- and tried to remember his father's lessons on thought-control.  "Fuck you, whoevever you are."

     "And the mouth of our kind, too.  You may call me Beelzinus, lovely mongrel, and thank you for the invitation.  I would have fucked you quite thoroughly without it, but it's always so nice to fulfill a request."  And the demon bent, extending his far-from-human tongue -- nearly a foot long and forked at the tip -- to tickle one of Dante's nipples.  Dante caught his breath and tried not to feel the jolt of pure pleasure that shot through him.  He failed miserably, of course.

     "T-take your hands off me, demon," he managed to say instead.  He also managed to focus on his surroundings enough to assess his chances of escape.  He was in a darkened, hollow space, illuminated by thin shafts of moonlight from high above.  He could smell well-seasoned wood and ancient hay.  A barn, then; probably one of the abandoned ones on the outskirts of town.  His arms had been bound with what looked like a length of chain, wrapped and knotted with little care for his comfort, and looped over a rafter above.  He hung only a few inches off the ground, but his own body weight dragged against the chain.  His arms were already numb; he couldn't muster the strength to break the chain and free himself.

     "You want me to stop?  All right."  To Dante's surprise, Beelzinus let go of Dante and stepped back, with a smirk.  At which point Dante shivered, because at once his cock set up a dull, angry throb of protest.  As did his nipples, deprived of Beelzinus' tongue.  As did his skin, deprived of Beelzinus' touch.

     No.  He gritted his teeth, trying to tell his body to stop whining.  He was only half demon.  He didn't _need_ it.

     "Don't you?"  Beelzinus' voice was soft in the darkened barn.  Deliciously seductive as only a demon's voice could be.  Dante's body tightened in instictive response.  "How long has it been, boy, hmm?  A few days?  A few hours since you spent the morning with your hand?  And already you were aching for it, like an addict who's missed a dose.  You may not need it the way I do, but you need _something_ \-- something you're not getting."  Hot breath skittered over one ear as Beelzinus leaned close to whisper.  "Why don't you let me give it to you, hmm?  You know you'll enjoy it."

     Dante shook his head, closing his eyes to shut out the hypnotic gleam of the demon's eyes.  He wished he could shut his ears as well.  "M-my father taught me all about y-your kind, you soulless bastard.  You're just a... a beast with a brain, all intellect and no conscience.  You'd devour the earth if he hadn't driven most of you back into hell --"

     "True, true, all of it.  But there are benefits to having no conscience, you should realize.  When I need pleasure, I take it.  With none of the temporizing or moralizing that seems to plague you so."  The sound of a step as the demon drew closer.  Dante's nostrils flared at the hot gunpowder scent of the creature.  He tried and again failed to silence the hungry plea of his body.  "I had two men and a woman last night.  Didn't even have to rape them.  I didn't care what they thought of me, didn't care what they thought of themselves afterward.  One of them fainted when I was done with him.  He rode me for hours, he was chafing and having heart palpitations and he still tried to fuck me, it felt that good.  I could ride you like that.  I could make it last 'til this time tomorrow and leave you begging for more.  Would you like me to?"

     _Oh God yes --_   Horrified, Dante caught himself just before he voiced those words aloud.  He tried to say no instead, but though he managed to open his mouth, the word wouldn't come.  He almost heard Beelzinus' smile.

     "Let's try this," said the demon.  "A game, hmm?  I'll try something, and if you want me to stop, just say so.  All right?"

     _Stop now_ , Dante tried to say, grinding his teeth to try and drive the words out.  But before he could, the demon took hold of his hips and bent and a mouth, hot as a furnace and full of skillful wetness, slid down over his aching erection.  And before he could gasp Beelzinus was deep-throating him, pulling him forward and rising up and down and suckling and and swallowing and oh God it was as good as fucking, better than fucking because a woman didn't have a tongue in that part of her, and Beelzinus used his tongue the way an artist used a paintbrush --

     The growl that echoed up to the rafters was the growl of a demon in full rut:  harsh, basso, demanding.  Dante opened his eyes with a start, wondering whether another had come to share Beelzinus' feast, and belatedly realized that the growl had come from him.

     Beelzinus chuckled around his mouthful of cock, then slurped free and straightened.  "That didn't sound like stop," he said.

     _No it didn't you cocky bastard so why have you?_   Again Dante struggled not to say the words aloud.  Fat lot of good that did when Beelzinus could pick the thoughts from his head like a frog catching flies.

     And Beelzinus indeed chuckled as he turned away.  "Poor little mongrel.  Perhaps I should have kidnapped you sooner.  What's that brother of yours doing that you're in such a state?  I thought at least _he_ would be taking care of you."

     Dante stiffened, trying to stifle another flare of that familiar almost-resentment.  It was one thing for him to be annoyed at Vergil's prudishness, but not this filthy creature.  "Vergil's not some animal like you, fucking everything in sight --"

     "And you are, I take it."  Beelzinus tugged off his cloak, pausing to pull something from a pocket first.  He did something to the object and then lifted his hands, pouring oil onto two fingers from the flask he'd taken out.  The claws were shorter on those fingers, Dante saw in lust-hazed confusion; shorter and shaped oddly.  "You're not human, boy, despite your upbringing and admixture.  Why deny your demonic nature?  You _hunger_.  So does your brother.  Where's the harm in the two of you satisfying one another?"

     Filed, Dante finally realized.  The claws had been filed down.  Beelzinus kept them short so he could use them for -- _no don't think about those fingers in me yes please_ \--

     Reading Dante's mind again, Beelzinus chuckled harshly.  "Look at you.  Your brother leaves you so hungry that you're easy prey for anyone who offers you a taste of pleasure, and that's a good thing?"

     _It's not like that,_ Dante tried to say.  Vergil was just trying to be a good elder brother, to show Dante that they weren't slaves to their half-demon natures.  He didn't mean to --

     -- _torture me_ \--

     No.  That was an unworthy thought.

     Beelzinus ruefully shook his head again, then came back over and lifted Dante's legs up around himself.  Dante was once more helpless as _No stop_ warred with _hurry up_ in his mind, and he could only whimper when Beelzinus thrust those two oiled fingers into him, working them in and out with slow teasing rhythm.

     "This is what your body understands," the demon breathed.  He let go of Dante's legs to work a hand between them, unfastening his own pants.  Dante didn't even try to lower his legs; he'd locked them around the demon's hips, his whole concentration fixed on those two slick fingers.  "Why deny it?  You want him.  You want me.  The hunger is in your blood whether you admit it or not.  When was the last time you had a man in you, hmm?  When's the last time you let yourself go? When did you last have pleasure without fear or worry?"

     _Never_ , Dante's mind whispered, and the demon's face fell in momentary pity.

     Then the pity was replaced by intent and the demon pulled his fingers free and pushed something else into him, something hard and hot and thick and painful and _good_ , so good, it filled him up and that was good, it hurt and that was good too, so good that Dante was moaning and lifting his hips to aid the demon's entry even as his mind howled at him to stop, that he was being raped, that this wasn't right --

     But then Beelzinus was fucking him.  And after a few blistering minutes of _rocking pain slamming bliss hard deep fast oh God I was never truly your creature but I believe in you now_ his resistance was gone.  He was being fucked like a girl and he didn't care, because it felt better than anything he had ever experienced and if Beelzinus stopped he was going to kill the bastard and distantly he registered that he was panting, snuffling, weeping, moaning the same word out over and over again. 

     "Please... please... pleaseohGodplease..."

     Then Beelzinus jerked in something that was not a thrust.  The break in rhythm shocked his mind back into functioning.  He managed a coherent thought -- _Goddamn it I'm going to kill him if he's come already._ For a long second the sword that had been thrust sideways through the demon's throat didn't register as an anomaly in his mind.  Then the blade pulled free and Beelzinus was staggering back, putting his too-perfect hands to his too-perfect throat, his cock bobbing almost comically even as blue blood spurted  around his fingers and there was Vergil, his eyes cold as diamonds as he shook Force Edge clean and waited for the demon to die.

     _No! Yes!_   Dante writhed on his chain, struggling to get free in case Vergil needed help, struggling to ease the pure physical demand that was screaming now within him, screaming that it wasn't enough, he needed more, right now, more, how dare Beelzinus stop, _more_ \--

     Distantly he registered his brother's voice.  Something about rescue.  "-- covered his tracks, or I would've been here sooner --"  Meaningless.  Nonsense.  He tuned it out, trying to lift his legs.  If he could somehow get his cock between his thighs -- unlikely given that it was pointed straight up at his navel at the moment, but maybe -- 

     Hands took hold of his waist, lifting him.  _Yes_ , his mind cried, and he wrapped his legs around the waist of another.  Young, male, smelling of human adolescence and demonic vigor.  _Oh yes, healthy and strong, you.  I want you._

     More nonsense penetrating the haze of lust.  "-- your arms, Dante.  Listen to my voice.  It's me.  It's Vergil.  Your big brother."

     Vergil.  Yes.  Beautiful impeccably-groomed magnificent masterful Vergil.  Dante gripped the chains -- which were loose enough that he could slip free now, but why would he do that? -- and used that leverage to undulate against Vergil in hungry invitation.  He was still lubricated.  Vergil could just slide right in, filling the emptiness that Beelzinus had left aching within him.

     " _Dante._ "  Urgent emphasis now.  The hands pulled him away from the chains; Dante's arms flopped down to his sides, weak and numb.  That was all right.  He wouldn't need his arms if Vergil would just shut up and _take_ him...  He was being laid down.  Immediately he curled onto his side, trying to move his arms enough to get his hands around his throbbing cock. 

     "Dante, it will pass.  Just -- no, stop that --"

     Vergil had taken his hands, trying to alternately rub feeling back into them and keep Dante from pleasuring himself.  That was fine, because Vergil was here now, and Vergil would give him what he needed.  Dante sat up and curled against his brother, seeking and finding his mouth and lapping kisses from it.

     "Dante!"  Hands took hold of his shoulders and held him back at arms' length.  Vergil's face, horrified and -- yes, though he tried to hide it -- just the tiniest bit interested.

     And yet he said, his voice strained, "We're brothers, Dante."

     "Verg..."  It took such effort to form thoughts, words.  Dante leaned forward and nuzzled at his brother's throat, remembering all the times he'd yearned to taste Vergil's skin.  So like his own, and so different.  "Just this once.  Please.  I'm not like you.  I need it, Verg."

     Silence for an agonizingly long moment.  "You don't know what you're asking for.  I'm not like _you_ , Dante.  It's... it's all or nothing for me."

     The words didn't make sense.  He didn't care.  " _Please._   I'll go crazy if you don't!"

     "...Yes."  There was something odd in Vergil's voice -- resignation, along with something else that Dante couldn't parse.  "I can see that, God help us both."  He reached out then, touching Dante's face, and Dante shivered at the tenderness of the caress.  After an interminably long moment, Vergil sighed and said, "All right, then, Dante.  Just remember: you wanted this."

     He let go of Dante then and stood, undressing.  Dante sat up to watch him, shivering in rising excitement.  First, off came Vergil's gentleman's coat, then the frilly-necked silk shirt underneath.  Then the undershirt -- and beneath this was a torso so beautiful and perfect that Dante whimpered, wanting to touch it.  Then off came the riding boots and trousers, and the silk undershorts, and beneath these stood an erection magnificent enough to mirror Dante's own.

     Above it, expressionless, Vergil's eyes bored into Dante's.  There was no tension in him now, no reluctance.  Nothing but cool, commanding desire.

     "Come," Vergil said, beckoning Dante toward himself.

     Dante's arms were prickling, beginning to get some feeling back, but if he'd had to he would have crawled to Vergil on his belly like a snake.  Instead he knee-walked to him, nearly stumbling in his haste, and wrapped his mouth around his brother as he'd yearned to do for years.  Vergil's hand took hold of the back of his head immediately, pressing him down and then pulling him back by his hair, setting a punishing pace.  But Dante didn't gag.  His body knew what it needed.  Vergil was his other half, after all; they had shared flesh in the womb.  His throat opened up and he tried his damnedest to swallow Vergil whole.

     Vergil's soft hiss was the only warning before the fingers in his hair jerked him back again, this time away from Vergil's bobbing, glistening cock.  The hand flung him backward, and even before Dante hit the floor Vergil's hands were on his thighs, yanking them apart and up, lifting his hips until his legs flopped against his splayed arms.  Dante had a moment to draw breath and then Vergil was above him, spreading Dante wide with his thumbs, his eyes cold as stars, the pale thatch of his pubic hair seeming to flash in the moonlight as he drove it down again and again and again.

     Dante lay where Vergil had flung him, barely aware of his body jerking back and forth in the hay-dust, too stunned to do anything more than lie passive beneath Vergil's ruthless, hungry force.  In all his dreams of making love with his brother, it had never been like this.  He had never in his life seen Vergil succumb to any of the impulses that dominated Dante's life -- bloodlust, sex-lust, delight in wanton destruction.  On some level he had always suspected that such impulses simply didn't exist in Vergil; that Dante had inherited all the negatives about being half-demon and Vergil had luckily gotten only the positives.  Now he knew.

     Vergil's eyes, stony and cold and somehow not at all the Vergil that Dante had always known, abruptly shot up to fix on Dante's face.  "You don't know anything," he breathed.

     And then in a blur of movement and bone-jarring force Dante found himself on his belly in the dust.  He gasped for breath as hands took hold of his hips with fearsome strength, lifting his ass high.  He could move his arms a little now, so he struggled feebly to push himself up, gain some sort of purchase in the dust before Vergil was abruptly inside him again, a rocking churning engine of exquisite stimulation.  Dante whimpered, his vision hazy with fear and excitement, scrabbling for purchase with his toes as Vergil lifted him higher, then higher still.  They were both standing now -- or rather, Vergil was standing; Dante dangled helpless in Vergil's hands, his neck threatening whiplash, his fingers and toes grazing trenches in the dust as Vergil worked him back and forth along his own shaft.  Dante was nothing special, that movement said.  Just a doll, a nice tight hole, a handy tool for masturbation.

     And the doll's pleasure?  Incidental, if it occurred.  Irrelevant if it didn't.

     And then there was only THRUST and the shadowed barn jerked around Dante, THRUST and his head threatened to bang into his own knees, THRUST and he could no longer remember what his life had been like before that moment, THRUST and he forgot his own name.  THRUST and he whimpered at his own helplessness, THRUST and it was a shameful, brutal, glorious pleasure to be owned, THRUST driving down into him, THRUST deep into his vitals and THRUST God it was like fire, like water, he must be steaming back there THRUST so hard so much so deep so oh God THRUST and Vergil was bigger now, his fingers tight enough to bruise even on Dante's half-demon skin, his legs long enough that Dante hung completely off the ground in his hands, THRUST and THRUST and THRUST and he was going to die like this, but God what a way to go.

     Then the shadows shifted once more as Vergil dropped to his knees again, letting the rest of Dante's body sprawl inelegantly in the dust but keeping the most important part of him right where Vergil wanted it.  Hands planted themselves on either side of Dante's head -- gargoyle hands, on the ends of arms like tree-trunks.  Vergil's breath was a furnace against Dante's back, blowing his hair up in great bellows gusts.  When Vergil began pounding into him again it was so hard that Dante's bones rattled, so deep that in a delirium of terror and pleasure Dante looked down to see if Vergil's cock was going to burst out of his belly, so fast that Dante wondered if the oil lubricating him could catch fire from friction.  When Vergil suddenly lifted him, setting all the blood that hadn't pooled in his cock rushing away from his head, he was not surprised to flop back against what felt like a humanoid brick wall, huge and hot and hard as stone.  He turned his head as best he could, for the savage THRUST had never once slowed, and beheld a face like a king's sculpture, all regal angles and noble planes.  And above it, the crown of hell:  a pair of horns spreading in graceful, deadly arcs.

     Magnificent.

     Entranced, Dante lifted his hand and cupped that sharp-etched face.  Glowing ruby eyes flicked over to examine Dante's face, and just as quickly to dismiss him.  Irrelevant.  Meat.  But Dante smiled, drawing his fingertips along the demon's perfect, cruelly sensual lips.  "Beautiful," he whispered.  "Vergil."

     THRUST pause.  The demon looked him over again, contemplative, as Dante whimpered in the sudden absence of pain/pleasure.  After a moment the demon deigned to shift one hand away from its grip on his hip, sliding that hand up his torso.  Its touch was not even possessive; that he belonged to it was utterly without question.  Perhaps it admired its pet.  Perhaps it would pluck his heart out for distracting it. 

     One of its hands closed around Dante's cock.  The other, on the back of Dante's neck.  The neck-hand lifted him.  The cock-hand squeezed, astonishingly gentle.

     Dante did not notice his own screams at first.  When he did, he thought -- or would have thought, had he been able to think -- that he had never felt such pleasure or pain in his whole life.  He thought -- or would have thought -- that the mingling of the two was the most exquisite, blinding, terrible, wondrous sensation he had ever felt.  He thought -- or would have thought, would have shouted if his voice had not dropped to a growl and his thoughts had not devolved into pure instinct and his flesh had not reshaped itself, a necessary adaptation to keep his brother from breaking his neck or tearing him apart from the inside out -- he thought that he was glad, so glad, that Vergil had finally shared this with him. 

     What he did think, as the orgasm exploded through his flesh and a demon's roar filled his mind and his whole body arched in agony/ecstasy/convulsion, was that he had never loved his brother more.

 

#

 

     Dante returned to consciousness slowly, hearing birds and smelling dew before realizing this meant morning.  It was chilly.  He opened his eyes.

     He was still in the barn.  His shirt, what remained of it, had been draped over him; his pants were folded neatly nearby.  Vergil -- he looked around wildly, suddenly and horrifyingly convinced that Vergil had disappeared, that he was ashamed of what he'd done, that Dante would never see him again --

     Vergil sat beside him, fully clothed and quiet.  He did not look at Dante while Dante sat up.

     "I killed someone, my first time," Vergil said softly.  "I couldn't control myself.  The demon in me needed too much."

     Dante nodded.  He shifted closer, slipped his arms into the shirt's sleeves.

     "I was afraid I would kill you," Vergil whispered.

     Dante smiled and leaned against Vergil's shoulder.  "Well, you didn't."

     "I was afraid -- "

     Dante reached over and put a finger on Vergil's lips.  "Shhh.  Just shut up."

     They sat together in silence, watching the sunbeams lengthen for a long while.  Dante closed his eyes, relaxing.  He hurt all over.  Even inside, where Vergil had torn or broken something; he was healing, but it would take time.  He hurt and he was cold and the back of his mind was filled with an inhuman black roar that had not been there before.  It had been asleep; it was awake now.  He had no idea what that meant.  But the foremost emotion in his heart was not fear or horror or annoyance at the pain.  It was contentment.

     Dante took Vergil's hand, lifted it, and kissed the open palm, so like his own.  Beyond it, he saw Vergil's eyes search his face, bright with their own fear.  He smiled, and was pleased to see some of Vergil's fear fade.  Not all of it.  But enough.

     "C'mon," Dante said.  "Let's go home."


End file.
